Tumgik
#poseiden
wierdshenanigans · 3 months
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"Don't worry kid, you're dad had plenty of kids he stopped helping out when he lost interest"
Theseus, who was helped by poseidon multiple times, but in the end was thrown off a cliff by the citizens of Athens and drowned. Drowned in the ocean, the very domain of his father.
Kymopoleia, who was neglected by Poseidon once he found her to be too violent, left to wander his abandoned palaces, given up as a war prize to man she didn't even want with no choice at all.
Bellerophon, who was given the pegasus to tame as a gift from Poseidon in some myths, dying by falling off of it on his way to Olympus.
I'm just saying, that line wasn't a random throwaway line by Ares, he means it.
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It would have been really funny if Percy wasn't the son of Poseidon, so when Annabeth pushed him into the water, there was no effect and he just got pushed into water for no reason
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elianzis · 3 months
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I try to chill with the waves
But damn, you crossed the line
Without words
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I just wanted to color the animatic frame...honestly
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idksmtms · 2 months
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You Are Not One Of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 2
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Full Request
AN: You know shit’s serious when you have to hand-write the outline for a fic in a notebook… My hands actually hurt from how furiously I typed this. I hope you enjoy it because what was the pain for??? 
Summary: The god of the sea and the goddess of love and war are falling in love, but betrayal is afoot. 
Word count: 9,713 - holy shit this is sm longer than I planned 
Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they both thousands of years old), god racism?? Idk they act like “foreigner gods” is a bad thing, lusting, p in v s*x, fingering, noncon voyeurism, liking the fact that he looks older (is this a warning???), (please let me know if I missed any) 
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 
Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)
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You followed Hermes around the entire flower display, oohing and aahing at the different little flowers that you wouldn’t have even noticed had he not pointed them out to you. You could feel the eyes on you again, a weight on the back of your neck but you ignored them until you had made a full turn of the flower display. You glanced in the direction of his throne, the way he sat with his right ankle over his left knee, spread wide and domineering, leaning back as if he was the picture of ‘unbothered’. But his eyes continued to follow you, and as you looked at his face, you met his gaze and time himself must have stopped the world for both of you. 
You felt like you had never taken a breath before this moment, as if this was the first time you had felt what it was like to truly feel air enter your lungs. It wasn’t just his eyes itself that did it, though the dark blue was the most beautiful colour you had ever witnessed (and knew you would ever witness). It was the way he looked at you, as if he, a god, couldn’t quite believe you existed. It made everything inside you seize up, as if each muscle had been tightened then locked and the key was to… you didn’t know what exactly. Have him hold you? Have him… have him kiss you? Gosh you had never desired a kiss so much in your life thus far. 
You slipped your arm from Hermes’ while he spoke to someone else that had come to join both of you and walked off almost in a trance. You knew exactly where you were headed though, and with careful steps made your way to stand directly in front of the god of the sea. His face did not change, but his eyes did not leave you. He looked up at you from his seat, waiting for you to speak first. 
You had once found it so easy to smile, so easy to speak and chat and spread joy with your mere presence. Standing in front of him now, you seemed to have forgotten everything you were once able to do. How does one smile? How does one speak? How does one even breathe anymore? Then, slowly, you forced yourself to gain a hold of your own mind, to banish these ludicrous thoughts to its very depths, and allowed your face to relax, the corners of your lips turning up and your eyes squinting just so. You folded your hands in front of you and bowed your head a tad in greeting. 
“Hello, I hope watching me all evening has been entertaining,” your smile turned cheeky and Poseidon raised an eyebrow as he noted the sparkle in your eye. Then he smiled, rather gently for such an imposing man, and dipped his head in a nod. 
“Forgive me, if I have made you uncomfortable.” 
“Oh not at all, who doesn’t enjoy being the centre of attention for a handsome god?” You replied, shrugging your shoulders and grinning at him. Poseidon’s brow raised again, but this time his lips quirked up in a smirk of his own. He shifted in his seat, sitting up just a tad bit straighter. 
“A handsome god? Hm, I might prefer that title more than god of the seas,” he joked, and a giggle fell from your lips before you could stop it. His smile widened at the sound, at the way it seemed to sort of fall with your breaths. “And it has been, entertaining I mean, you are rather… interesting.” You pouted jokingly at his words, stepping closer to his throne so your dress brushed his knees. 
“Just interesting? After I called you handsome?” You teased, and now it was Poseidon’s turn to chuckle, a deep sound that seemed to rumble out of his chest and made your stomach feel warm. 
“I think my true thoughts about you may not be appropriate for a first meeting,” he finally said, voice deep and more hushed than before. He looked up at you through his lashes and your entire body felt like it was sizzling. Every cell was suddenly vibrating and you thought you might pop out of existence. 
“Why would they not be appropriate?” You whispered, leaning forward even more, as if you couldn’t help but want to be closer to him. One side of his mouth pulled up in a smile and he sighed, as if it was tiring to even think of the reason. 
“I would like you to come back to Olympus, who knows how you would feel about what I am thinking.” You shivered, at the way his voice seemed to vibrate down your spine, at the darkness that began to cloud his eyes, at the desperate and sudden need to clamber onto his lap and press your lips to his that now filled your body. 
“I can guarantee you,” you began, licking your lips and leaning forward until both hands were on the armrests of his throne. “That whatever you say will have me running back even quicker.” 
Poseidon swallowed, lips parting as he sucked in a breath. Your faces were so close now, noses almost touching, and he could feel the warmth of your skin gently touch his cheeks. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Now that you were so close, you could see the smallest flecks of gold interspersed in the dark blue of his irises, could see the grey beginning to touch the hairs on his temples. Your mouth opened, as if you were going to say more, as if you were going to kiss him- 
“Little goddess!” Loki called, and you popped up quickly, turning away in a whirl of fabric. 
You walked off to where his voice had sounded from as he beckoned you to come chat with him and Hermes once more. Poseidon watched you skip away, as if you hadn’t just been a hair’s breadth from his face. He stared at the fluttering fabric following behind you, at the glimpse of your smooth leg and the blue hair that billowed around your head, and he let out a deep breath. He looked away from the direction you had gone, only to meet eyes with Hestia and Hephaestus in the corner, smirking so teasingly that he felt his entire body begin to burn. 
You were luckier than he, for Loki and Hermes had not noticed the way you had almost fallen victim to your own innate desires and whims. Your cheeks were flushed and you pressed a cold hand to each, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before smiling up at the two. They began speaking at you about something or other and you glanced back from the direction you had come. You met eyes with Poseidon and snapped your gaze away, cheeks starting to burn once more. 
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After a performance by a few of the muses, gorging yourselves on ambrosia and the polishing off of many jugs of wine, Odin decided it was time for everyone to return to Asgard. He offered an invitation in return to Zeus and the Greek gods, that they would be welcomed to Valhalla if they ever decided to visit Asgard, and while they offered words of praise and assent and reassurance, everyone knew there would be no reciprocal visit. 
You danced the rest of the night away after your moment with the sea god, switching between the arms of Hermes, Loki, Thor and even Baldr. Poseidon had mingled with some of his nieces and nephews, but had largely remained on his throne from where he could watch you best. You were a vision, a whirl of colour, and watching you dance and laugh and just be merry seemed to soothe something in his heart. He wanted to provide it for you for the rest of eternity. 
“I hope to see you again soon,” you told Hermes as you all gathered near the bridge to say your goodbyes. “I had a wonderful time.” 
“Yes, we must meet again, perhaps you could return to Olympus for another performance of the muses?” Hermes sounded so hopeful, and you smiled and nodded jovially, excited to see another beautiful piece. It was rather unfortunate that you had such different ideas of how it would go in your heads, such different ideas of each other, in your heads. 
You waved him goodbye and began to turn away before someone cleared their throat next to you. You turned your head to see who it was, though you already had a feeling you knew. His presence could not be missed, even if one didn’t lay eyes on him. You could feel it hovering over your shoulder, the power of the seas gently brushing against your elbow as you turned to look at him. 
“It was lovely to meet you, Y/n,” his voice was quiet and you had to clench your hands together to stop your entire body from shaking like you were in a hurricane. 
“Likewise,” you answered breathily. If you even tried to continue speaking you were sure your voice would crack and you would spill words that hadn’t even been in your mind before they started coming out of your mouth. 
“I would like to offer you an invitation,” he began, looking straight into your eyes. If you didn’t know any better you might think he was actually nervous to ask this of you. Poseidon knew that if he didn’t face you head on, didn’t force it out of himself, he may never gather the courage to ask you. “A visit to one of my favoured spots on Earth, a beach that is-” 
“Yes. I would love to.” Your cheeks turned pink as you realised you hadn’t waited for him to finish his sentence but he only smiled, eyes twinkling and creased, lips thinned out. You bowed your head to try and hide your face but he just chuckled and ran a finger down your arm. As if you weren’t already filled with a fire that couldn’t be put out… You gulped, pressing your thighs together for a moment before whispering a garbled goodbye and walking away. Poseidon clenched his hand into a fist at his side. 
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You had taken to strolling along the cliffs of the fjords now that you had returned from Olympus. The sound of the water far below reminded you of Poseidon, the crashing of the waves against stone on a particularly stormy day helped you think of his face, his voice. You didn’t know when he would finally set a date for the invitation, how he would get you to this favoured beach. Your anticipation was beginning to claw at you from the inside, like talons digging into the lining of your stomach when you thought of each day that had passed with no word from him. You hoped that he would find you here, so close to the sea, and you hoped he would do it quickly. It had been a week now, and you were slowly starting to lose hope. 
You walked to the very edge of the cliff and stared straight down into the water. It was almost black, capped with pure white foam as it swished against the rocky cliffs. The sound of it almost had you missing the crushing of hooves on grass behind you. You turned to find a beautiful white stallion gently trotting up to you. His coat was so pure and shiny it was almost silver. Wings sprouted from his back, beautiful and feathered that he flapped once before folding them back against his body. You stared, mouth agape, as the pegasus trotted up to you, stopping just in front of where you stood and gently snuffling his nose against your cheek. You leaned back, careful of the cliff edge, giggled at the ticklish feeling of his lips against your cheek, his hot huffed breaths fanning over your face. The stallion stepped back so you could come forward and away from the sharp drop before gently stamping his two front feet into the grass, lowering his head and the wing closest to you. You stared for a moment, hoping against hope that this was finally the fruition of the invitation, but the stallion was impatient and huffed loudly, stamping his feet harder and gesturing to his own back with a shake of his head. 
“Alright, alright,” you breathed, caressing his head and mane with a soft hand before using the edge of his wing to step up and swing yourself onto his bare back. The stallion waited until you were settled before turning away from the cliff edge and trotting back a few paces. Then he turned to it once more and began galloping right for the edge, wings unfurling and flapping into the air as the breeze picked him up and sped both of you into the sky. 
The feeling of being on the back of a pegasus as you flew through the sky was one you would not forget until the end of your days. The rush of cold air as it blew your hair behind you, the feeling of his warm coat under your legs, the sound of nothing but the flap of his wings and the howling of wind in your ears. For the first few minutes you gripped his mane but eventually you leaned back and threw your arms up into the air with a scream of joy, clinging to him only with your legs so you wouldn’t fall off. 
You weren’t sure how long you flew, eventually bending at the waist and fully laying on his back so you could watch the clear sky above you pass away in an endless screen of blue. You felt him spread his wings out and slowly begin to tip downward into a descent. You began sliding forward slightly so you sat up and you caught sight of the ocean spreading out below you, as endless as the sky. The dark lines of waves rippling just below the surface dotted the entire area, some capped with foam like it had been painted on. You could see where it ended, where the water began to lap at sand and your heart seemed to flutter with the wind. As you began to drop even closer to the ground, stomach swooping with each dip lower, you noticed a solitary figure sitting at the edge of the water, just in reach of it so it lapped at the figure’s feet. Your heart began to thunder. 
Pegasus trotted onto the beach with a thud so soft you barely felt it. Sand kicked up under his hooves and you felt the grit against the skin of your feet and legs. You felt giddy, clenching your legs tighter around the stallion as you approached the figure, happy that your dress had enough fabric to still cover your legs though you rode the winged horse. He stood as you approached, brushing off his linen pants. You could see that the hems were drenched in water and it made a tingle of warmth settle in your heart. 
Poseidon smiled as Pegasus stopped just in front of him, bowing his head to the king of the seas and unfolding one of his wings so you could use it to step down. You swung your leg over, using one delicate foot on the edge of his wing to hop down in a flurry of fabric. You were barefoot already, and you instantly began spreading your toes into the warm sand, sighing at the feeling of it between your toes. He waited until the horse had trotted away to find its own entertainment before stepping closer and reaching out to hold your hand. 
He had been desperate to feel your skin, to know if your hands were soft or you had callouses on the tips of your fingers from your sword fighting. Even just the hint he had gotten from touching your arm on Olympus had been enough to drive him wild. He wanted to know the warmth of your skin like he knew his own. 
You smiled shyly, dropping your head to stare at the sand, but threaded your fingers through his, as if the thought of letting go was simply impossible. His hands were rough, but not unpleasantly so, and you thought they would feel amazing on your skin in other places. You stepped closer to him, so that if you moved any closer your bodies would be pressed together, and looked up into his eyes. He smelled like a fresh ocean breeze, like the salt of the sea and something so intoxicating that you wanted to press your nose into his neck and inhale. 
Poseidon loved the feeling of your little hand in his own, your fingers (which he discovered were soft despite your skill with a sword) fit perfectly between his own, your palm pressed right to his, your pulse points brushing together. With his other hand, he reached up and dug his fingers into your hair, moving it back so it draped over your shoulder, so he could slip his fingers through the strands and feel each one caress his hand. You closed your eyes, leaning into the feeling of his hand and sighed happily. 
“I’m glad you came,” he told you quietly, caressing your cheek with his thumb. 
“I’m glad you invited me,” you replied, voice hushed as you turned your head to kiss the tip of his thumb gently before tipping your head back to stare into his eyes once more. He was mesmerised, drunk on your presence, lost to you. 
You giggled then, a small girlish thing that made a smile break out on his lips and made him feel giddy. He had not felt giddy in aeons. You turned to the ocean and tugged on his hand, beginning to walk along the beach, your feet splashing in the surf. 
“Did you know that the ocean is my favourite place in all the realms?” You told him, quirking up your brow teasingly as you kicked some of the water into the air, watching the droplets sparkle in the sunlight. Poseidon just watched you, watched every movement, hoping he wouldn’t miss a single thing you did. He saw your dress ride up your leg, expose the smooth skin, and he wanted to push it up even further, to tear it off of you completely and see you bare. “Even before we met, they were my favourite. I often go swimming in the water of the fjords, it is the perfect temperature in the summer months. You should join me,” you shrugged, smirking as you walked slightly away from him, stretching your arms out so you could still hold his hand while you waded further into the water until the hem of your dress was soaked and the waves lapped halfway up your calves. 
“I would be delighted,” he breathed out in that deep voice of his that had your insides turning to mush. You wanted to feel his voice. Was that even possible? You wanted to feel it inside you, through you, to merge it into your skin. Maybe you were cursed… 
Both of you continued walking along the shoreline, occasionally wading deeper or shallower but always touching the water. You talked of home, of Valhalla and the fjords, of your brothers and parents, of Loki and his stories. You told him all you could about yourself and then some, whispering words you had never dared to admit to yourself. In return he listened, offered stories of his own realm in the sea, of the histories of the gods of his own pantheon, of Greece itself. He told you of the existential dread he had begun to feel before you had fluttered into his life, how everything had felt just bearable before you. He would speak forever if it meant you looked at him the way you did, eyes wide, lips just slightly parted, drinking in everything he had to say. 
You walked until the sun began to set and your voices began to drip away because of how much you had spoken. You stared at the darkening edges of the sky and knew you would need to return home so as not to worry Odin and Frigg. You stopped in the water, the waves lapping at your knees and your toes digging into the soft sand under the water. You turned to face him, reaching to hold his other hand as well and smiling up at him. 
“You have given me the best day I have ever experienced in a thousand years of existence,” you told him, biting your lip as you caressed the backs of his hands with your thumbs. “I hope to see you again soon.” 
“Of course,” he gripped your hands tighter, pulling you in close until your chests pressed together. He leant down so your noses brushed together and your lips parted as you sucked in a breath. 
“Are your thoughts about me still too inappropriate to tell?” You whispered, and you could feel his lips brush yours with every word. 
“Even more so,” he breathed out, his voice fanning over your lips. 
“I would gamble that mine are worse,” your voice was becoming breathy and raspy, throat suddenly dry as you gulped. 
“I would doubt that very much,” he replied, pressing his body impossibly closer. You could feel him crowding you, the way he seemed to surround you with his broad shoulders and thick arms and you shivered, stomach muscles pulsing. 
“Tell me one, the most appropriate, I suppose,” you joked, a slight glint in your eyes. 
“I could not live without you. If you were to be taken from me, I would not need the humans to die out for my existence to cease,” and as you gasped, he brought his lips to meet yours. 
You tasted sweet, like the freshest pomegranate, or the softest date in the bowl. He pressed his mouth more firmly against yours, kissing you like it was impossible not to continue after he had done it once. His beard rubbed against your cheeks, soft yet coarse, tickling your skin. You gasped into his mouth, reaching up to grasp the back of his neck and pull yourself up a little. His lips felt like softened butter, and you opened your mouth to allow his tongue to plunge in. You moaned, a sound you had never made before, and pressed yourself to his body like a cat to its owner's leg. He huffed against your mouth, groaning and grunting as if he couldn’t control the animal inside of him. 
You kissed again, and again, and again, until your lungs were burning, until your cheeks were rubbed raw and your thighs hurt from clenching them together. You pulled away from his lips, eyes still closed, and were hit with a wave of water up to your face. You squealed and opened your eyes, not realising that the water had begun to rush around the both of you, waves pushing and pulling the shore so harshly that foam was left behind on the sand. The skirt of your dress was soaked and heavy, hanging like a weight from your shoulders. Your feet had succumbed to the sand and it took some strength to pull them out. You stared at the god of the seas, and he had the decency to look sheepish as he dried your dress and led you back to Pegasus. All you could do was laugh and laugh until your stomach hurt. 
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Ever since you had kissed the god of the seas, you had thought of nothing else. Every crevice of your mind was filled with him, the sight of him, the smell of him, the sound of him. You heard his grunts as you tried to sleep, saw his face as you tried to wash. You seemed to be a goddess of curses too, because if this was love, then it was a curse upon anyone who experienced it. How was anyone supposed to live when all they thought of was the person they loved?
But today would be better. Today would be better because Hermes had invited you to watch a theatre piece by the muses, which would mean a trip to Olympus. Which would mean seeing your beloved. You had talked Odin and Frigg’s ears off the night before about how much you had loved Olympus, how glad you were to go again, and they had smiled at you like amused parents. 
As you entered Olympus, you felt a bit nervous. You hadn’t been alone the last time, and now as you walked across the bridge and into the gardens between the palaces, you felt all the eyes on you. People stared as you walked in, looking for Hermes or even Poseidon. Wind spirits whispered, minor gods chuckled behind their hands, and you felt your cheeks begin to burn before you caught sight of your friend. 
“Hello, hello!” He called, waving as he made his way around a group of cloud spirits carrying dinner plates. You giggled and waved back, hopping the few steps to meet him. 
“Thank you for inviting me! I really enjoyed myself before,” you told him, and he smiled brightly, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. 
“I enjoyed your company, I am glad to have you back,” he told you, a pink tinge to his cheeks, but you just laughed and slapped him on the arm. 
“Where do we need to go?” You asked as you began to look around, not so secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of your sea god. 
“Just this way,” and Hermes began leading you toward the large lawn they used for performances by the muses.
You seemed to watch Olympus with such wide eyes, gasping and squealing at every little thing that was unfamiliar to you, and Hermes felt like his heart was no longer his own. He wanted to cut it out of his chest and offer it to you on a silver platter if it would make you happy. 
He led you to where seats had been set up for anyone to come and watch the muses perform. It was one of many they did, so people would most likely come and go, with a few who had more time on their hands bothering to stay the entire time. You chose seats right near the front and were settling in just as the performance began. Hermes mentioned that it had been written by Thalia and Melpomene together, so it was bound to be both funny and tragic. You nodded happily, then pressed a hand to his mouth to shush him as the muses made their way onto the stage and began to speak. You were enraptured the entire time, and by the end of the piece you had laughed and cried so many times that your cheeks were red and your eyes were puffy. Your face hurt from smiling and your eyes hurt from crying but you would not have traded that time for anything. 
“So I assume that you enjoyed it?” Hermes asked hopefully. You nodded vigorously, going off on a tangent about the different pieces of dialogue and the setting and the way you had cried when Melpomene had lay down to die. 
“HERMES!” A voice boomed, and he let out such a weary sigh that you almost began to cry for him. His face had dropped and he looked at you in sorrow, shaking his head before mumbling a few curse words to himself. 
“I’m so sorry, dearest, but I must run off for a few moments. Duty calls,” and with a flap of his shoes, he was off to go find out what message his father had for him to deliver now. You stared after him for a moment before laughing quietly to yourself and turning on your heel to see if you could find your sea god up here or you would have to throw yourself into the ocean for his company. 
It seemed to be that if you thought of him, he appeared, because it was right then that your sea god appeared in your vision, walking up to you with a subdued smile on his face. You would never stop being thankful for the fact that you were the only one who got to see the smiles that took up his whole face. 
“Well hello stranger,” you singsonged, trying to suppress your smirk but your mouth still twisting just so to the side. 
“What is a norse goddess doing on Olympus?” He asked teasingly, leaning in close to you and gently running a finger down the bare skin of your arm. You shivered, shoulders shaking, and he chuckled. “I want to show you something, join me?” And you said yes without an ounce of hesitation, Hermes forgotten. 
When Hermes returned from being yelled at by his father about sending a message to some hero who was beginning to get too big for britches, he couldn’t find you. He searched around the stage area and through some of the nearby gardens to no avail. Then, just as he had finally convinced himself that you had returned to Asgard, he spotted the end of your dress disappearing in the distance. He began to call out to you but just as the sound began to come out, it died in his throat as he noticed the hand you placed on his uncle’s arm, the smile you shot up at him as both of you walked away. What could you possibly have to do with Poseidon? Hermes began to follow. 
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You allowed Poseidon to lead you wherever it is he wanted to, just happy to be in his company. You chattered his ear off about the play, explaining every detail that had mesmerised you, and he just listened with a growing smile. To have you here, by his side, just speaking to him was better than he could have imagined. He understood now why the humans valued their marriages so much. He wanted all of that with you.
You crossed through a patch of trees and found cliffs facing you, rising so sharply that the only way to get up them would be to fly. Poseidon led you to a little crack in the imposing wall, covered by long hanging vines that crawled up the cliffs. It would be extremely difficult to spot the little entrance, to note the difference in those vines compared to those on the cliffs, but it was the only place where they hung off of the cliff rather than clinging onto it. He pushed through the wall of leaves and stems, holding it open for you. He held your hand as you walked through the little cave entrance and you clenched it tightly when you saw what was at the other end. 
A beautiful lake, not too large but not too small, with crystalline waters as still as a statue. It was bordered by large boulders that would be easy to clamber onto and rest on to bathe in the sun. Beyond the boulders there were trees completely surrounding it, enclosing the space. You stared into the lake’s waters, and realised you could see all the way to the bottom. There were rocks, smooth and huge like the boulders, all along the bottom. Little water plants sprouted between them and in the cracks and the little buds made you smile and laugh breathily. You turned back to your lover, staring at him with such reverence that he had to look away. It was the most beautiful place you had ever seen. And now it was your place, just for the two of you, together. 
You walked to him until your chests pressed together and you kissed him sweetly, the sound of your lips sticking together fluttering into the quiet air. He smiled into it, opening his mouth and delving his tongue into yours, the feeling of his beard against your cheeks and upper lip almost tickling. He slipped his hands down your back, grasping your behind, but you giggled and pulled away before he could properly get his hands on it. He groaned, low and deep and annoyed but you just continued laughing before stepping away from him and near a low rock. You stared into his eyes, face serious, as you began to untie the straps that held your dress over your shoulders. Your cheeks were flushed, and nerves made your hands shake, but you continued until one strap was untied. It slipped down your back and your chest, stopping just on top of your breast. You reached for the other, untying it but not letting it go, bringing it down with your hand and allowing the dress to slowly slip down your body. It exposed your chest first, goosebumps popping up on your breasts before your nipples tightened and began to pebble. Poseidon’s eyes were locked on you, his breath shallow and his entire body tightening. He could feel the blood rushing in his veins, could feel the heat suddenly clinging to his skin, and he gulped, clenching his hands as he watched you lower the dress further, expose your stomach, your pussy, then drop it to the floor. Both of you let out shaky breaths as he stared at you, at the ravenous look in his eyes. It almost hurt to breathe, to move, but you forced yourself to walk into the water, looking back over your shoulder as you stepped into the water. He stared at your back, at the muscles in your legs as you walked, at the round backside that tempted him like nothing else. 
You immersed yourself in the water until only your head was above it, your arms and legs swishing slowly to keep you up. You stared at him like a siren, eyelids fluttered low and eyes hazy, lustful. You licked your lips, those precious lips that tasted better than ambrosia, and he lifted the shirt over his head, slipping his thumbs into the hem of his pants and pushing it down. You traced your eyes over the defined muscles of his abdomen, at the thick flesh that formed his arms, strong and fierce and so so perfect. His thighs were wide, strong, defined with muscle, and you had never desired to sit on a person before this moment. He was truly a god. 
His skin was slightly bronzey with pinkish undertones, and you wanted to run your hands over every inch of it. You stared at him, at his cock, and you clenched your thighs together so hard at the pangs of pure lust that hit you that you almost went under. He was… he was what desire looked like. He was thick, and long, and a red colour that made it look almost painful. You wanted to soothe that ache. 
You continued treading water, waiting for him to follow after you, and he did, splashing into the water with a lot less care than you had. You would have giggled, but he was on you so quickly, wrapping his arms around you and caging you against his body. He was warm, even in the water, and his muscles were firm. You reached up to kiss him, to let him lave his tongue inside your mouth to his heart’s content as you pressed one hand to his cheek and felt his beard beneath your fingers. Your arms came up to wrap around his neck, pressing you as close as physically possible to him. You would jump into his skin if you could. You wrapped your legs around his waist and gasped when his member pressed to the sensitive skin of your core. 
You had felt the slickness even before you had entered the lake, the way it made your lips slide against each other and made walking a chore. You had felt the squish of it against your inner thighs, warm and wet and so desperate for Poseidon to ease the ache it ebbed from. He brought his hand down to the apex of your thighs as he moved away from your lips, kissing over your cheek and down to your neck. He pressed it with kisses, laved it with licks, and you quivered in his arms as he began gently touching you between your legs. 
His fingers were hesitant at first, softly prodding at your lips before slipping between them and pressing the little nub right at the top. You jolted, moaning into the air at the electric feeling. You had never felt like this before, had never felt pleasure so deep. He rubbed it, pressing and releasing, pressing and releasing. You quivered in his arms, shook and whimpered as your thighs and arms clenched tighter around him. Poseidon breathed heavily into your neck, licking your shoulder and biting it softly as he pressed a finger into you, pushing past the initial tension of your entrance to press another of his fingers inside and against your walls. 
You were so warm. Hotter than the waters of phlegethon, and his movements hurried. He wanted to be inside you, to sink himself to the very hilt and lavish in the heat and wetness you provided. His fingers pumped in and out of you so quickly that the water around you began to slosh and splash. The way his hands rubbed your insides felt like little fires had been started inside your body and the only way to survive was to let them burn everything to ash. It built and built, your breaths getting heavier, moans getting louder, hands clenching tighter. Then you were cresting the pleasure, reaching its peak, shaking and forcing your body onto his hand as much as you could, relishing the press of his knuckles against your entrance, his thumb against the little nub at the top. 
You panted into his neck, laying your head down on his shoulder as all your muscles released and you felt like you were made of cloud mist, held together only by his grip on you. But Poseidon didn’t slow down, just pulled his fingers out of you and spread your thighs a little wider. You groaned, shifting your body, but he just quietly shushed you, rubbing your back and allowing you to settle in his arms again before pressing his cock to your entrance. You gulped, pressing yourself down so he would finally be inside you, so you would finally know what it was like to be joined as one. He groaned, loud and monstrous as he pressed fully into you. You gripped him so tightly that he forgot how to breathe, knowing nothing but the heat surrounding his cock and the whimpers you breathed against his ear. Your nails dug into his shoulders and he bit down onto your neck, a little harder this time. You keened, moving your hips, hoping for something, anything. He shifted his hips, and the drag of his veins against your walls made a high-pitched moan wail from your lips. It was like being shot through with electricity, like every limb was paralysed and forced to feel the sudden shocks that emanated from your core. 
Poseidon began to move in rhythm, pushing and pulling his hips, addicted to the rub of your walls. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear past the rushing in his ears. All he knew was you, pressed against his body, your walls clamped around him, your thighs shaking as you tried to hold on. 
Again and again and again. His thrusts became harder and harder, erratic, his pelvis squishing your nub every time he came back inside you. One of his feet dug into the sand and the other pressed against the rock that followed the sand. He used it to keep his balance, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up and down his member. You lay close to limp in his arms, letting the pleasure rock over you, through you. 
He was close, so close. Electricity ran up his spine, down to his toes. He could feel it building, his stomach tightening. His cock felt too hard, too ready to explode, and with one more push inside you, he was there, bursting. He roared into the air, mouthing at your neck as sparks shot through him and his hips rutted into you without control. You could feel it twitching inside you, spurting inside you, the sudden warmth that flowed down your walls and disappeared into the water. You pulled back from his shoulder and kissed him fiercely, mouth open and cheeks hurting against his beard. Somewhere on earth, an earthquake shook a city. 
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Hermes had trailed a little too far when following you, and couldn’t figure out how both of you had disappeared through the rockface. He had heard your voices, had heard the quiet way they dissipated as if you had been walking away. He pressed on the cliffs in all sorts of places, contemplating if both of you had actually dared attempt to climb the menacing cliffs, when he heard a splash. He followed it to the vines, to the entrance to the lake, and snuck through. He walked until the edge of the cave-like passageway, sticking close to the walls. He peeked through, and saw the clothes on the floor, your dress in a heap near the edge of a boulder. Something thick and sticky filled his stomach and began to climb toward his throat. He dropped close to the floor and crawled into the sanctuary, hiding behind the boulders until he could view the lake from behind one of them. 
The sight of you clinging to his uncle, wet arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed him like you were desperate, droplets of water on your face as it contorted in pleasure even while you pressed your mouth to Poseidon’s, made Hermes close his eyes and sit back against the boulder. He had seen Poseidon’s hands below the water, gripping your waist, pressing it to his own. He had heard the gasps you let out between kisses, the little moans in reply to Poseidon’s grunts. He wanted to gag. He pressed a hand to his mouth, clenched his eyes shut and pressed his head between his knees. This couldn’t be real. What he was seeing, what he was still hearing, couldn’t be real. A black anger, venomous and seething, like something he had never felt before, filled his belly. It was vicious, eating through his flesh, whispering hatred in his ears. He wanted to scream, to jump into the water and rip his uncle to shreds, to throw you off the side of Olympus. His hands began to shake and he pressed them to his ears to drown out the sounds of your coupling. His fingers dug into his hair and he pulled it until it felt like it was on the verge of being ripped out. He needed vindication. He deserved vindication. 
Hermes sat there until his breath was closer to normal, then crawled back out the way he came. He stood outside the entrance to the lake and whispered curses at the both of you. His entire body felt red hot and he trembled with his anger. He stomped back toward the palace, scheming and trying to fit pieces together in his mind of what would hurt the both of you most. He wanted you dead. He wanted you gone. You were the reason this awful thing sat in his heart, this parasite that was eating him alive. The only way to do that was to get Zeus to kill you. It was the only answer. 
Hermes’s walk began to slow as he approached the main courtyard, as he saw the paths that wound around the main palace and noticed the side door that allowed the cloud spirits in and out. It all fell together in his head. A small smile of relief made its way onto his lips. Yes, yes, it was all falling into place. It would be easy, too easy. And what would make Zeus angrier than his lightning bolt going missing? 
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As you began to walk back from the lake, the only hint of your adventure being the wet tips of your hair and the slightest limp in your walk, you could hear the sound of rushing and yelling and thunder. Instantly you were on guard, body seizing up and eyes turning serious. Poseidon walked a little faster, staying just ahead of you as you entered the main courtyard of Olympus and headed into the castle where the commotion seemed to be coming from. 
“WHO HAS STOLEN IT?! ANSWER ME. WHICH ONE OF YOU DARE STEAL FROM YOUR KING?” You could hear Zeus clear as day even before you entered the throne room, staring at the morose pantheon as you walked in behind Poseidon. When Zeus noticed the new entries, he whirled on his brother and shoved a finger in his face. “Was it you? Jealous of my power, my position?” 
“What has happened?” Poseidon asked, though an anger suddenly seethed in his stomach at the fire in his brother’s eyes and the finger pointed at his face. 
“MY LIGHTNING BOLT HAS BEEN STOLEN!” Zeus screamed into the air, pacing in the middle of the gods as they all stood just in front of their thrones. 
Hades turned to look at the both of you, Persephone clutched tight under his arm, and he shook his head as if to tell you to stay silent. Hephaestus and Hestia stood next to each other, arms brushing together and eyeing Zeus critically, as if this madness could only have been brought on by his own doing. You pursed your lips and shifted to stand hidden behind your lover. 
“Confess. Right now. Who has stolen it?” Zeus spat, eyeing each of the gods who only looked away from his piercing gaze. 
Poseidon noted the way Hermes glanced toward you, at the edges of your hair dripping onto your dress and leaving watermarks on your shoulders and back. His eyes were hard like onyx, and something akin to cruelty seemed to hide behind his face, the set of his mouth, but he passed it off as annoyance at his father. Ares noted you standing beside his uncle, and a frown overtook his face. 
“She is not of Olympus, is it a coincidence that she is here and the lightning bolt has been stolen?” He voiced, pointing at you. Everyone turned to stare at you and your heart jumped into your throat. You began to shake your head, holding your hands up in surrender. 
“No, this has nothing to do with me, I was nowhere near the palace,” you began desperately, eyes wide and mouth opening and closing to try and figure out how to appease them. 
“She was with me, and we were far from here. She did not do this,” Poseidon’s voice was like a crack of lightning, truly a competition for his brother. 
“You could’ve had someone else help you,” Zeus thundered, ignoring his brother and continuing to glare daggers at you now that the seed of doubt had been planted. “Return it at once.” “But I don’t have it! How am I supposed to return something I have not stolen?!” You cried desperately, tears now threatening your eyes. 
“You refuse? Fine. You will be seized until the lightning bolt has been returned to its rightful place,” and before anyone could even take a breath, a glowing circle surrounded the floor around you and you disappeared in a flash of lightning, transported to something akin to a jail cell on the far side of Mount Olympus. 
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As you cried in the room of pure white, no door to leave through, the walls impenetrable to even your magic, the gods in Asgard received a message of the accusation lodged against you. Odin, though fuming, worried more for your safety, and sent an envoy of ravens to tell of their incoming arrival on Olympus to discuss these events. All the norse gods begged to accompany him, to aid in avenging their princess, but he only enlisted the help of Loki, knowing of your friendship with the Jotunn and that the trickster would be good help in getting out of a sticky situation. 
On Olympus, Hermes watched you curl up in a corner of the room, cheeks stained with tears and eyes red, and guilt began to fill his heart. He had felt angry, vindictive, when he saw you kiss the god of the seas. But knowing that he had hurt you felt so much worse than any of that. He hated that you had chosen Poseidon, that you refused to love him back, but he hated this burning in his heart, this venomous, evil blackness that seemed to tinge his very insides as he listened to your quiet sobs. He didn’t want to hurt you, not like this. Though it felt too late to have this realisation, he knew he could do at least one thing to begin making it right. 
Zeus sat on his throne, fuming. Lightning crackled in the sky, winds blew so fiercely that the humans had boarded themselves into their houses or sat at the altars of his temple, praying for his forgiveness. He would kill you. He would kill you and retrieve the bolt and send your divine corpse back to Odin and his people as a lesson. 
Poseidon had been lost as to what to do next, he had already yelled at his brother, threatened war, interrogated almost all his nephews and nieces to no avail. He had even gotten on his knees in front of Zeus’s throne, swallowed his pride and begged his brother to believe him, to believe that you were innocent. Nothing. He had eventually fallen onto his throne, glaring daggers at his brother as his nieces and nephews whispered among themselves around the throne room, looking between him and Zeus. Hades, finally having let go of Persephone and ushering her to find her mother and a safe garden to stay in until he came and got her, made his way to stand behind Poseidon. He didn’t say a word, knowing his brother didn’t need to hear anything right now, and just placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Poseidon did not move. 
The doors to the throne room burst open for the second time that day and Hermes ran in, the wings on his shoes still fluttering. He skidded to a stop just in front of Zeus’s throne, huffing out “father!” as he bent at the waist to catch his breath. All the gods turned to stare, Zeus raising an eyebrow as he stared contemptuously down at his son. Poseidon sat forward. 
“I found the lightning bolt!” Hermes huffed, holding out the bolt to his father. A gasp floated around the room as they all stared at the buzzing lightning bolt in his hand. Zeus leaned over and snatched it out of Hermes’ hands, holding onto it so tightly that if it had been anything else it would have been crushed into dust. 
“Where did you find it, son?” Zeus asked, eyes still on the lightning bolt. 
“On Earth, father, thrown into the mountains of Rhodope,” he sighed, eyes flitting around to the other gods. They began to murmur, frowns marring their faces as they wondered how in the world the lightning bolt had ended up in the Rhodope mountains. 
Zeus stared at his son, his gaze like stone, until the younger god looked away. Then he sighed and snapped his fingers so the bolt returned to its place and clapped his hands, a smile now on his face. 
“Dionysus! This is now a celebration! Bring wine, the lightning bolt has returned,” and he began bellowing with laughter. Some of the gods joined in, tittering awkwardly, and Hera sighed so heavily and with such annoyance that even Zeus shifted away from the side which bordered her throne. 
Poseidon stared at all that had just happened, at the relieved smile on Hermes’ face and the way Zeus was already back to joking with Ares. Anger, hot and boiling, seethed inside of him and he stood abruptly from his throne, glaring at his brother then heading for the door. He couldn’t be in here any longer while his love was trapped in some prison surely made to torture her very soul. Just as he reached the doors, they burst open once more and Odin stormed in, cloak billowing behind him as he marched up to Zeus’s throne. 
“Where is my daughter?” He demanded, mouth set in an angry line. 
“In my prison, she is accused of stealing my lightning bolt,” Zeus answered in an equally thunderous voice, standing and looking down at the man. 
“Release her at once, she did no such thing.” 
“How do you know? She appears in Olympus, the only outsider, and then my lightning bolt goes missing. This does not seem like a coincidence to me,” Zeus raised an eyebrow as he stared at Odin, daring the god to rebuke him. Odin opened his mouth as if he was about to argue but closed it and sighed, taking a deep breath in to gather his words. 
“Release my daughter. Please,” he gritted out. “My people will never interact with yours again, will never step foot near Olympus again as long as you release her.” Zeus and Poseidon stared at Odin, one contemplating, the other heartbroken. Zeus nodded, standing from his throne and holding out his hand to Odin.
“It is agreed. Neither of our peoples will step foot in the other’s lands, will interact with the other, for the safety of our people,” Zeus’s voice was stoic, and he waited until Odin had nodded in return and slipped his hand into his own. They shook twice and Zeus snapped his fingers, turning his back on Odin to return to his throne. 
“My daughter? Where is she?” Odin snapped, glaring daggers into Zeus’s back.
“Oh, you will find her outside with your trickster,” Zeus waved his hand in the air, voice unbothered, and Odin disappeared with a flash. 
Poseidon fell back into his throne, all the air gone from his lungs. He stared at the spot where Odin had stood, where reality seemed to have collapsed, and a choked sound left his mouth. The promise still rang in his ears, the promise of separation, the promise of never seeing his love again until the day he was forgotten and disappeared into the dust. He clenched the arm so harshly that it broke off, and the other gods in the room turned to stare at him. He threw it onto the floor, cracking the marble, and disappeared, leaving only the scent of the sea in his wake. 
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At the base of Mount Olympus, Loki waited for something to happen, whether it be Odin returning with you or a call to fight. He paced in the dirt, murmuring threats of violence to himself, all the things he would do if you weren’t returned in an instant. And then, in a flash of light, there you were, kneeling in the dirt, dress torn, hair damp, and tears tracking down your cheeks. You stared around yourself as if you couldn’t truly believe you were no longer surrounded with nothingness. You pressed your hands into the dirt, feeling the mud squelch under your fingers and took a deep breath in, beginning to laugh happily. Being a goddess, you were so quick to take freedom for granted, you realised. 
You stared up at Loki, a wide smile on your face when Odin appeared beside him in a flash of light. There was relief in his eyes, but something else too. Something akin to worry. 
“Father! I promise, I promise, I did not steal that lightning bolt,” you began, pressing your hands together as your face fell. 
“I know, little goddess, I know,” he soothed, patting the top of your head as you began to weep with relief. “But whoever has done this has caused consequences far beyond your imprisonment. From henceforth, we are not to speak with, to be near any of the gods of that pantheon,” he told you, smiling sympathetically down at you as your face fell. 
“What?” 
“I know you enjoyed Olympus, you had made friends with those gods, but it is the only solution, the best agreement,” and with another pat to your head he disappeared back to Valhalla. 
You sat there, staring up at the sky where the clouds gathered to hide Olympus, as your head filled with… everything. You wanted to scream, to march up there and demand they let you in, let you see your lover. How could they do this? Accuse you of this, then rip him away from you? Your entire body began to quiver and you let out a scream from deep inside you. It was shrill and so loud that even the gods in the throne room paused at a distant sound of pain that reached their ears. 
Loki walked over and knelt down in the dirt next to you, gently caressing your hair as you wailed into the air. It was the sound of an animal hurt, of a baby crying for its mother, of a lover separated. He whispered gently into your ear, promises of an eternity to recover, of lands yet to explore, of anything he could think of that may calm your screaming. Slowly, you stopped screaming and began sniffling, hiccuping with remnant sobs, and saying “no, no, no,” over and over again. 
“They cannot take him from me. They will not.” 
“Remember the story I told you, little goddess?” Loki asked, a frown marring his face as he looked down at you. 
“I will not be like them,” you whimpered, lips quivering in anger and frustration, “I do not intend to lose.” And you stood from the dusty ground, dress ripped and torn, hair in disarray, mud splatters on your face, and pointed a finger toward Mount Olympus, a vow whispered on your lips. 
Taglist: @thicficbich1, @zeeader, @josxkl1m
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spiralingemptyness · 4 days
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how tf do u think Hera, Demeter, Hestia, Hades and Poseidon felt when a random fucking rock just appeared in the stomach…….
like their depressingly vibing in their fathers stomach and then here comes a fucking random ass rock…
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0lympian-c0uncil · 7 months
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Kronos: Well, if it isn't the Bitchless Quartet!
Hades: Hey! You can't call us that!
Demeter: I mean, you can call HIM that, but not us.
Demeter, *gesturing to herself, Hera & Poseidon*: We get bitches.
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gothymothy420 · 3 months
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BECAUSE RUTHLESSNESS IS MERCY UPON OURSELVES 🌊🔱🧜‍♂️
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lovscass · 3 months
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₊⊹୨୧ PERCABETH AESTHETIC! ୨୧₊⊹
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withlovefromolympus · 6 months
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Poseidon: are you sure this is gonna work?
Ares: no. in fact, i’m almost certain we’ll all end up dying, probably with lots of blood and guts spewing everywhere
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alyhcxlart · 2 months
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Ma babe.❤️‍🔥
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storytellerstarsign22 · 3 months
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One thing I've never seen adapted from book to acting is the story Sally told Percy about his dad.
All these retellings acting like they never talked about his dad before.
Tv Show: "Do you know why we always come to this cabin?"
"Because it's close to the septic tank?"
"No, it's because it's where I met your father."
Musical: "We're better off without him"
"No, I think it's time you learned more about him"
Film: "Percy, this is about your father."
"So, he did abandon us."
Book: Mom always took us to this cabin because it's where she met my dad. She didn't talk about him too much because it made her sad, but she told me he was rich and they had a secret relationship, but then he left and got lost at sea. Not dead, always 'lost at sea.' [...] Eventually I got curious enough to ask about my dad like I always did."
One thing I can appreciate from the books is they make this kid a little curious. All these adaptations act like they never spoke about him which... wouldn't happen.
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wierdshenanigans · 4 months
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Sick of y'all yelling at Percy and the others for not realising he was Poseidon's kid sooner.
Annabeth only thought Percy could've been Zeus's kid because he reminded her so much of Thalia
There's like a million minor gods out there and a shit ton of naiads and nereids and water-based minor gods whom Percy and everyone could've assumed as his godly parent before he was claimed
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dorimei · 1 year
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poseidon: percy is my best and brightest child athena: your best and brightest child is shoving a fork in the outlet while apollo watches
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elianzis · 3 months
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Another frame in color✨
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idksmtms · 2 months
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You Are Not One of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 1
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Full Request
AN: OMGGGG my first request! And it’s an absolute banger too??? I feel like a queen, I truly do. 
I know the original request was more about Marvel-based Norse mythology but I’m not a Marvel fan so I went with original Norse mythology! Hope that’s ok! 
-Also yes, this is a place where we pretend the Hades-Persephone myth isn’t as messed up as it actually is and is a sweet love story instead, fuck off- 
-I know Hestia is supposed to be a virgin goddess and never marry but like… I’m thinking of a cute hearth goddess and how she could love Hephaestus and I want that for them- 
Final PS. that corner pic of Toby Stephens doesn't fit the rest of the aesthetic, I know, but I saw it while searching and it had me quivering so I had to add it.
Summary: Zeus and Odin have brought peace to the worlds of the gods. With peace comes love. But all is NOT fair in love and war. 
Word count: 6,187
Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they both thousands of years old), god racism?? Idk they act like “foreigner gods” is a bad thing, lusting, liking the fact that he looks older (is this a warning???), (please let me know if I missed any) 
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 
Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)
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It was the dawn of a new era when Kronos was thrown to Tartarus. His evil had touched more than just the world of the Greek gods, sending ripples through the very world of mythology itself. Though the worlds of the Norse and the Grecians were thousands of miles away, their gods had often met on the battlefields. A multitude of stories, now lost to time, told of the wars of snow and sand, told of the loves made and broken between viking idols and spartan gods. But upon the ‘death’ of Kronos, the new king of the gods found himself in a forgiving mood. Odin too, having given up so much for wisdom, realised the best way forward was to have peace in all aspects under his control, once and for all. 
The two gods met deep in a forest exactly halfway between what is now Greece and Norway, a forest that eventually became the town of Vlasim in the Czech Republic. No one other than the two kings knows what was said in order for the peace pact to be made, but they left with promises of order, friendship, and an invitation for the Asgardians to visit the stronghold that is Mount Olympus. 
When Zeus returned with this news, they all rejoiced and began ensuring Mount Olympus looked better than it ever had before. After all, they still needed to outshine these other supposed “gods”. Hera took charge of ensuring the entire place glowed, already beginning to argue with Demeter on how the flowers would look best. Aphrodite was already picking out her best dresses and sprucing up her hair, Artemis and Apollo hopping off to go hunting for some creature that would show their true prowess to the Asgardians (secretly hoping they would make it back in time). Dionysus was left in charge of the entertainment, though he was quickly focused only on providing wine for the entire table, and Hephaestus and Hestia found comfort in quiet corners of the room, watching all the chaos unfold. Hades had been unbothered, promising he would show up with Persephone when the Asgardians arrived and nothing more before disappearing in a puff of smoke back to the underworld and no doubt the loving arms of his wife. Poseidon was… well he didn’t know how he felt. If he was honest, he was beginning to feel old. Life as a god wasn’t all it was cut out to be, and it had been dragging a bit recently. His millennia of existence were beginning to catch up to him and he wasn’t sure how to jumpstart his enjoyment again. He had even taken to wearing an older form recently, a man still in his prime, but one with the wisdom of a thousand years subtly showing itself in the lines around his eyes and mouth. A man still corded in muscle but with the stockiness, width, and strength of one who had had one hundred lifetimes to hone it. This seemed like exactly the kind of thing he needed to reintroduce excitement to his life. Though Zeus had not included him in the peace talks, he was happy to be part of the governing that came after, to help maintain the peace between the gods. For once he felt he could happily commend his brother for a job well done. 
And he was excited to meet these new gods, apprehensive too of course, but… excited. It would be a good opportunity to measure themselves up to the others in their world, to truly decide if they were as invincible as they believed they were. Poseidon believed it was important for the gods to have a wake-up call every now and again to their fragility, and he was sure this would be one of them. 
Across the world, in the realm of Asgard and the halls of Valhalla, ale was poured and songs were sung as the gods rejoiced. Odin sat on his throne high above the others as some danced, some fought, some feasted, and some passed out from too much of everything too soon. Odin watched over them all with one of his rare smiles, a hand resting atop the one Frigg had placed on the arm of his throne. Even Loki, occasional friend, occasional enemy, had joined for this celebration. He was proud of what he had achieved, of the worthy sacrifices he had made, to not only bring him eternal wisdom, but to bring peace between two races of gods. Odin turned to Frigg, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She blushed, turning to him and pressing one on his cheek in return. 
“Everything is well?” She asked, caressing his cheek just under the eye he had given up. 
“Perfect,” he sighed, then looked back out to the dancefloor where his children now pranced jokingly.
Thor laughed heartily as he began to chug from his mug, froth spilling over the sides of his cheeks as his friends clapped and cheered. Loki even smiled, though he was more caught up in trying to continue his conversation with the little goddess sandwiched between her brother and him. Odin’s youngest child, the newest addition to Asgard, giggled at her brother’s antics and the clever commentary the god of mischief whispered in her ear. She was still young by the standards of the gods, having only seen a thousand sun cycles, and she was treated as such, cherished by all who looked upon the daughter of Odin, the goddess of love, so loved in fact, that Odin had chosen to bestow his own title of god of war onto her. The goddess of love, and war, Y/n Odinsdottir. 
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You were excited for this trip to Mount Olympus. You had been aware of the Greek gods since your birth but you had not had the opportunity of meeting them in battle. Being only a thousand years old meant you had been coddled for five hundred of them, and though you had been given the title of goddess of war, you still felt you had to earn it. Balancing the powers of love and war was a struggle you were still learning. You had spent the last five hundred years trying to choose the right warriors to bestow your blessing upon, the right vikings to give the power of love (the second being especially difficult as you had only felt familial love thus far). This would be an opportunity to learn from these other gods, to not only enjoy a new era of peace but to build on your own skills. 
Odin, Frigg, and Thor enjoyed your excitement, watching with smiles as you pranced about in different dresses wondering which would be the best to wear, brushing out your hair and carefully pinning the dark blue tresses into an updo. Though you often changed the way you looked (shapeshifting came with the job of being a love goddess for all mythologies it seemed), you never changed the blue hair. You had quickly grown fond of it, and the natural movement of hair in that colour reminded you of waves on the ocean, a particular favourite spot of yours. Even past the blue hair, you often wore blue dresses in varying shades, simply because you had come to love the ocean, and thus the colour blue. The other gods often remarked that love was not black nor white, rather it was blue. 
On the eve of the grand meeting of the gods, you had sat beside Loki in a stone alcove high above the feast hall of Valhalla, watching the slain heroes rejoice for another evening. Though it was in Loki’s nature to be a trickster, you had come to enjoy his company and often seeked him out when you were bored or nervous. He knew the history of the gods almost as well as Odin, and you enjoyed the way he told his stories with exaggerated voices and dancing movements. You loved learning about all that had happened before you, all the battles the gods had fought, the relationships they had made, long before you were even a thought in Odin’s head. On a night like this, when you had too much energy to just while away the hours, you found Loki and begged him to tell you a story. You were still young, and possibly your power as a love goddess had an influence too, but he found he could never quite say no to you. 
“Alright, little goddess, settle in, for tonight I tell you a story of love and perilous heartbreak, a story that involves lovers who should never have met, lovers who had no business being together, and who fate punished for it,” Loki began, eyes sparkling as he gazed deep into your own. You shivered and nodded, excitement and just a hint of fear tickling your spine. You sat back against the stone wall and brought your knees to your chest, resting your chin on top of them and waiting for Loki to begin again. 
“So many years ago that neither you nor I were even a thought in the dust, one of the aesir fell in love with a goddess of another land. Though their names and abilities are lost now, we know that the aesir was one of our strongest, almost indestructible. The goddess was special in her own right, among her own people, and these two great clans warred for many centuries. Years and years were spent slaughtering each other’s families, using human battles as their own, bleeding each other dry until there was barely anything left to call them gods. 
During one such battle, this aesir had broken through the front lines of the opponents, but was stopped dead in his tracks when he laid eyes upon a beautiful goddess helping to heal what she could. He was enamoured by her, so enamoured that for the first time in any battle he was nicked by an arrow.” Loki paused, seeing the way your eyes widened and began to get teary, and he smiled gently. “Do not worry little goddess, it was only a small cut, and he was able to heal, but the true wound was in his heart. He wanted to find this goddess, to be near her, to love her, and yet every day he had to fight her people, without fail. 
One day, he decided to stay back while the others fought, and he snuck over to the other side to try and find his goddess. He disguised himself as a butterfly and fluttered around their camp looking for her. Again, when he found her he was struck dumb by her beauty, and instantly changed into his true form in front of her. She was terrified, and she almost began to yell for help, but he begged her not to. He promised her his life, his very essence as a god, if only she would give him a chance to show her how much he had come to love her. Of course she was apprehensive at first, he was the enemy after all, but she allowed him this. 
The aesir took his knife, cut his palm, and dripped his blood onto the ground. With the first drop, he created a new flower and named it Linnea, for her. With the second, he created a flurry of butterflies that would follow after her wherever she would go, do whatever she wished of them. And with the third, he created a thin gold thread. He took one end of the thread and tied it around his wrist before offering the other to her. He said that if she took it, he would bind himself to her, soul to soul. That if she loved him back, they may be separated, but the gold thread would tie them together forever and wherever they may be, they could always follow it back to one another. The goddess, won over by his utter devotion, accepted his offering and promised to love him back until the end of her days. 
Each night they separated to their own camps, connected only by the gold thread, and each day while the battles and the war raged on, they would sneak away to far off places to be together and live in a happiness their people couldn’t seem to find. But all was not well for the lovers, for the Norns had spun their threads and knew that the price of their love was one no god could ever pay. And so, one day when the lovers snuck off, a god from this other clan who had been promised this goddess’s hand in marriage decided to follow. He saw this ultimate betrayal and sounded the alarm. Both lovers were dragged back to their camps in shackles, the aesir and the other gods unsure of how to punish them. 
The eldest of the aesir knew what must be done. The lovers could never be together, it was simply impossible, and he spoke with the leader of this other clan in a moment of truce. They were both in agreement, and the elder was sent off to complete this task. He ventured to Yggdrasil and found Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld. He had Verðandi remove any memory or thought of the goddess from the aesir’s mind. He had Urðr remove any trace of the goddess from the aesir’s fate. And he had Skuld remove any future with the goddess. 
When this was done, the elder returned to the camp and found the god to see if the Norns had worked true. He had no memory of the goddess, and seemed returned as he was to the aesir. On the other side, the same had happened to the goddess with her own fates, any trace of the god removed from her thoughts, memories, fate and future. Everyone thought all was well and normalcy had returned, but both god and goddess felt the eternal tug of a gold thread wrapped around their wrist that no one but them could see. Both attempted to follow it but it seemed to never have an end. They would stand in front of each other, and look straight through the other, never able to see one another again. Forever they were cursed to wonder why they were pulled toward something they could not see, something they would never be able to find.” Loki finished with a sigh, looking at you as you sat curled up against the wall opposite him. You were frowning, tears collected at the corners of your eyes and lip trembling. 
“I didn’t like that story,” you mumbled, shaking your head and wiping at your eyes. “What was so wrong with them loving each other?” 
“Little goddess, we are terrified of the things we don’t understand. We don’t understand love, we don’t understand why it evades us but not those we hate. We don’t understand why it makes us love those we do not want to love.” Loki began to stand, brushing off his legs and shirt with a shrug. 
“Then… then none of you understand me. You are all terrified of me. I am the goddess of love, am I not?” You asked, looking up at him with fearful eyes. But Loki just smiled and patted your head. 
“You help us understand love, little goddess. That is why we need you, because without you, we would all be even more lost. Imagine that,” he smirked and chuckled, then walked away, mumbling something about readying for the journey to Olympus. 
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When the Norse gods began to arrive on Olympus, the Vanir entering first, the gathered horde of Greek gods and goddesses and spirits began to mumble and talk among themselves as they judged the foreigners that now walked among them. The Grecians felt their dressing was superior, their peplos were so white that they would burn the eyes of a human. The gold edging was pure and shined as if it was freshly polished and not thread. The purple cloaks they all donned would bankrupt every village in the human world just to get enough dye to make it look that bright. They were… amused? Intrigued? Maybe even disgusted by the fashion of their guests. They all wore varying shades of red. They had either thin linen garments with animal furs draped across their shoulders and arms, or donned thick tunics of sheepskin and wool pants with leather belts decorated with axes and swords. Both groups were… apprehensive to mingle. 
Zeus and Hera sat on their thrones and looked down on their guests, nodding greetings as they watched for Odin and Frigg. Poseidon and Hades sat on their own thrones to the side of their brother. Hades was turned to the side and conversing solely with Persephone who stood just behind his throne, leaning onto it and smiling down at her husband. Poseidon just sat back and watched the gods enter the grand hall, resting his chin on his hand and trying not to yawn with boredom. 
The entrance of Odin and Frigg could not be missed. As they crossed the bridge into Mount Olympus, they were surrounded by the Aesir. Odin held Frigg’s hand, both dressed in traditional Viking fashion. Frigg wore a modest woollen strap dress in a shade of red so deep it looked like she had bathed in blood. Her grey eyes were smudged with black on the lids and her hair was braided on both sides and tied back, resting on a black fur stole draped over her shoulders. Odin was dressed completely in black, from his eyepatch to his tunic and sheepskin pants. But his cloak was of the pure white fur of a bear, the edges dragging on the ground behind him. 
Thor followed behind his father, dressed as a common viking, but with Mjolnir dangling from his wrist, shiny and almost glowing. Baldr walked beside him, a simple white tunic and black pants comprising his outfit. But it was his hair that was the talk of the audience, so pale and white that it seemed to glow itself. He was a handsome creature, youthful and majestic, with a muscular body and a gentle smile. The muses began to giggle as they watched him walk past. 
It was after Thor and Baldr had separated to stand beside their father and mother, that little gasps and whispers began to pervade the air. Behind them had walked Odin’s youngest child, wearing a dress of blue that draped over your body like water. It looked like it had been made of the thinnest netting all gathered and crushed together then draped over your body in the fashion of the Greeks. The fabric was so light near the top that it looked like the very froth of a wave, and darkened as it flared out behind you, the hem almost as black as the deepest trenches of the sea. Like your mother and father, you had draped a fur over your shoulders, hoping to appease your people. You had wanted to blend in with the Greeks, had wanted them to feel respected (you were entering their home after all) but you still wanted to look like a viking. 
The Aesir walked forward as Zeus stood from his throne, followed slowly by his brothers and Hera. He smiled at the approaching group, waiting until they were just in front of the thrones before speaking. 
“Welcome, all, to Mount Olympus,” his voice boomed, and a small flutter of claps sounded from around the crowd. “Thank you for joining us, and for ensuring peace between our peoples for the rest of our eternity,” he smiled, and Odin bowed his head in thanks, letting go of Frigg’s hand to hold both of his own in front of himself. “Please, converse, rest, enjoy the sights of Olympus and partake in the refreshments,” Zeus gestured his arms to the tables of ambrosia that stretched so far that even the gods lost sight of their ends. With that, he sat back on his throne, and waited for Odin and Frigg to approach. 
Hades took the opportunity to grab Persephone’s hand and try to slink off but the goddess just chided him and forced him to sit back in his throne as she went to see her mother. Hel chose this moment to approach him and the two began a stilted conversation about their individual worlds of death. Hephaestus and Hestia, who had taken up to joining together in situations of unfamiliarity, sat together in the corner, whispering among themselves. Apollo found company in Bragi, though both instantly began speaking in verse to try and prove who was the better poet. 
Artemis, Ares, and Athena had crowded Thor and Tyr and were all in different positions of trying to look dangerous, unamused, and intrigued at the same time. Aphrodite had pounced on Baldr, but found competition in the muses who had already made their way to surround him, and soon found herself flirting with Freyr. Hermes and Loki too had found delightful conversation with one another, full of ideas of thievery and trickery. 
And Poseidon was… enamoured. Since the moment he had laid eyes on you he had not taken them away. He had slowly sat back down in his chair, worried that if he stayed standing his knees may give out. You made a god weak. You were beautiful, ethereal, magical, beyond anything even the gods could think to conjure. And your dress… oh that dress, had you chosen it for him? Had you arrived with a mind to capture his very essence? Because it started with that dress. You looked the very soul of water, the very thing that made a world impossible without it. Your hair, your luscious hair, so blue that it reminded him of his palace, of the places deepest in the sea where he felt truly at peace. And the small smile on your face as you meandered between the different groups of gods conversing, slightly shy of your place, but not unhappy. It was the smile of a fresh pearl, one that shined under even the dimmest of lights. 
Poseidon watched you walk about, not entering any conversation but not shying away from listening to the others speak. Your pretty face never once dipped into a frown, and he felt like he would never truly catch his breath if he could see you in his line of vision. It took every bit of his godly power to force his eyes away, and he was both angered and thankful when some god (who seemed to be the only one who looked as old as he probably was) walked up to his throne and began conversing about fish. 
You were so happy that Njord had listened to your little prompt to go speak to the god of the seas, because it meant he finally pulled his eyes away from you, and you could begin to watch him in return. He had been the first of the thrones you had looked at, and the only one you truly cared about now. His eyes were such a dark blue that they reminded you of the ocean, of your favourite place in the ocean in fact, and they seemed so… knowing, as if one look at another told him everything he needed to know about them. His form was majestic, stoic and strong, with broad shoulders and thick arms that made you desire something you had never desired before. You wanted him to hold you. You wanted him to wrap those arms around you, to run your fingers over those arms. Were you bewitched? Were you cursed? Even his hair made you feel desire, those beautiful locks of hair that resembled celestial bronze, neat yet still unrestrained with a particularly unruly strand falling onto his forehead. You wanted to run your fingers through that hair, to feel if it was truly as soft as you imagined, to press your nose into it and inhale the slightly salty scent that surely clung to him, that you had come to love as much as the sight of the ocean itself. You wanted to feel his beard on your cheeks, under your palms, to know if the white hairs that threaded through it were any coarser than the others, to know what it felt like to have a man’s face in the palms of your hands. Your entire being felt as if it was on fire, and the more you stared at him, at the slight signs of age that showed themselves in the lines by his eyes and mouth, the more you felt it burn inside you. 
Someone cleared their throat to your right and you gasped, whirling on them as a blush branded itself on your cheeks, as if your body wanted to betray your thoughts. You smiled, hoping to cover up whatever embarrassment may have shown on your face, and gazed at the god before you. He was about your height, if not a little taller, with a grin that reminded you of Loki’s. His hair was black and combed back smoothly in a rather regal fashion. His eyes were black too, you noticed, so black that you couldn’t differentiate the pupil from the iris. You smiled brightly at him, bowing your head in greeting when you noticed the little wings that protruded from his shoes. 
“My goodness! Your shoes!” You exclaimed, gasping and pointing at them with a delighted little laugh. 
“Yes,” he laughed along, “they help me travel quickly when I am tired, though they do often have a mind of their own,” he joked, and you laughed loudly. He had a sweet voice, one that would sound happy even when he was sad. “I am Hermes, son of Zeus, what is your name?” His eyes were sparkling and you found you enjoyed it. 
“I am Y/n of the Aesir, goddess of love and war,” you introduced yourself, holding out your hand to him. Hermes held it as if it were a precious gift and pressed his lips to your knuckles. You had never felt so regal. 
“Ah, yes, Odin’s youngest, I have heard of your prowess on the battlefield.” Hermes was surely a charmer, you thought, and you smiled brightly, a tinge of pink to your cheeks. 
“You flatter me, I am still unproven as a goddess of war, though I suppose I do plan a strategy well,” you smiled cheekily, shrugging nonchalantly and holding your hands behind your back as you swayed girlishly. 
If there was one thing you were proud of, it was your ability to fight. It was the reason your father had given you this title, your cunning ability to break down your opponents in all sorts of ways, to plan out a fight before it had even begun. Simply put, you were good at it, you could defeat Tyr with ease now, and even Thor had become no challenge. While you still struggled with the love side of your godly abilities and duties, you could always rely on your fighting. 
“What about you, Hermes? What are you the god of?” You asked, tilting your head in question. 
“Many things, trade, luck, travel, and thieves,” he answered breezily, though his smile betrayed his pride. “I am the herald of our pantheon, the messenger of the gods.” 
“Well you are very important then, for where would we be without our messengers?” You told him sweetly, and all he could do was nod. His chest filled with warmth and he knew he had to be careful or the affection that now bubbled inside of him would erupt from his mouth. 
“You are wise as you are sweet,” he simply replied, and you just smiled brightly before turning to face the group and stepping slightly closer to his side. 
“You remind me of Loki, though he is not a brother, I see him as such,” you told him, and a small pang hit him in the stomach. You had already passed him off as a brother it seemed. But Hermes just shook his head to himself and smiled at you again, leading you toward a display of flowers just to the side that was one of Demeter’s favoured experimental projects. He was tenacious, if nothing else, and he would eventually get you to enjoy his company as something more. 
Poseidon had ended up enjoying his conversation with Njord (who was surprisingly intelligent and rather engaging when conversing about fish) but when the god had left him he instantly began to look around for you. Any good mood was squashed when he saw you walking off arm in arm with Hermes, and a thunderous look settled across his face. Somewhere on earth a storm began to brew. Luckily, you didn’t walk far, and he was able to watch over you from his throne, though his mood had already soured, and continued to sour the longer you stayed attached to Hermes’ arm. 
Hades, who had finally rid himself of Hel’s company, Hestia and Hephaestus from their corner, and even Dionysus from his seat at the ambrosia table with a jug of wine bigger than his head watched Poseidon. He was acting rather odd, and they could all now see why. His eyes had not left the girl-goddess since she had arrived, and he was miserably failing if he was attempting to be subtle. They had noticed the goddess watching him in return, the pink tint on her cheeks and the sparkle in her eye, and a teasing giggle seemed to build in all those watching. How poignant for Poseidon to fall for the goddess dressed like the sea. Hades stood from his throne and made his way to his brother, sitting on the arm of his throne and smirking at him.
“I will admit, brother, that she is beautiful,” he told Poseidon quietly. The god of the sea snapped his head to his brother, and scowled. 
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” he answered simply, but Hades just laughed, patting Poseidon on the shoulder. 
“Oh brother, you truly do not understand the art of subtlety, do you?” Hades raised an eyebrow and Poseidon stared at him bewildered. “You have watched that one since she arrived and done nothing but that. And goodness, the way you watch her! Have you never seen a woman?” Poseidon shrugged his brother’s hand off of his shoulders and had the decency to look slightly sheepish. He had assumed no one would notice. Hades noted the slight shame in his brother’s expression and sighed, smiling gently. 
“Do not worry, I will tell no one, though I may not have anything to tell as she does seem to be enjoying Hermes’ company,” he added teasingly, and Poseidon growled at his brother’s back. 
He was distracted by a commotion that had arisen near where Hermes and the goddess had stood. Now a group had gathered around them, fluttering with whispers, and he was too curious not to know what was going on. He walked swiftly from the throne, standing just behind some of the minor gods in the group and peering over their heads. 
“So you are a goddess of war, your brother has said?” Ares asked, hands on his hips as he stared down at you. You smiled up at him, nodding your head. 
“The goddess of war and love,” you told him. Athena and Aphrodite, both stood just behind Ares with their arms crossed over their chests scoffed. 
“A goddess of war and love? Must not be good at either,” Aphrodite murmured, voice snarky and loud enough to be heard by everyone. Athena smirked, hiding a chuckle behind her hand. You frowned at this, looking toward the two goddesses, but Ares just moved so you would be forced to continue staring at him.  
“She is a guest, do not be rude,” Hermes spat, but Ares and Aphrodite just waved their hands in twin moves of dismissal. 
“I am the god of war, she is the goddess of love, we have the right to ask questions of a guest who resembles us so closely,” Ares smirked at Hermes, but he was quick to return his gaze to you. His eyes were like fire, hungry and angry, ready to burn whatever he looked at. 
“So, what exactly do you do? Do you make enemies fall in love and end wars?” Aphrodite snarked, tilting her head and staring at you like you were just something annoying that had flown into her path. 
Poseidon wanted to intervene. He was desperate to come to your defence, to have the waters flood Olympus and drown each of them until they were nothing but salt in the sea. But before he could step forward to your aid, he saw the subtle changes in you. He saw the way your eyes hardened, any trace of the happiness and gentleness with which you had treated everyone thus far disappearing. He saw your back straighten just a tad more, your shoulders pushing back and your balance shifting just slightly forward onto the balls of your feet. You clenched your teeth together for a moment before relaxing your jaw and looking up at Ares. 
“Would you like to fight me?” You asked simply, folding your hands in front of you. Ares began to laugh, a deep guffawing laugh that had him bending backward and puffing it into the sky. Aphrodite tittered, pressing her fingers to her mouth and turning to the side as her laugh tinkled into the air. Even Athena smirked, though she didn’t say anything nor laugh, just a widening of her lips and a slight disbelief at your stupidity in her eyes. “Is there a problem?” 
“You have just asked to fight a REAL god of war, child, what am I to do other than laugh?” He replied, throwing his arms out and gazing at the crowd. 
“Careful, brother,” Hermes spat, but you just placed a hand on his arm, stoic expression not changing. 
“You could fight me,” you answered simply, beginning to tie your hair back. “Unless you do not believe in yourself, REAL god of war?” 
Ares snarled, baring his teeth at you before stepping back and throwing off his purple sash. It would only be a hindrance to his fighting ability. You smiled, broad and bright, and a longsword appeared in your hand. A glorious weapon, with a handle of white bone carved from a broken fang of Fenrir. The blade was black like onyx, but fashioned from the strongest metal the dwarves could find and forge in Nidavellir. It was your favourite. You spun it in your hand lazily, inspecting it for a moment before turning to look back at Ares. Your eyes flashed blue, so quickly that if anyone had blinked they would have missed it. Then, with a smile so gentle you seemed you could never hurt a fly, you attacked. 
It took you no more than five minutes to have Ares on the floor, your sword pointed at his throat. You were swift like wind, clanging your sword against his before twisting around him and kicking the back of his knee and then the other to flip him over as he fell. Not a hair out of place, you smiled down at him, pressing the point just a little into the skin of his throat before pulling it away completely and sending it back to Asgard. Ares stared up at you with eyes so wide you thought they would pop out of his head. He was winded, puffing on the floor as he tried to figure out where he was, what had just happened. 
“How did you…” Hermes stared at you, mouth wide open. 
“I told you! I’m good at strategy. He is cocky, and he underestimated me. He believed I was being cocky, and thought that when I saw him with his sword I would be apprehensive. He did not expect a swift beginning attack, nor did he believe I would risk trying to go for an obvious place like the back of the knees. To know your opponent is to be able to defeat them. Simple.” You smiled at Hermes, shrugging and turning away from the crowd to venture around the flower display and find one you hadn’t seen yet. 
Ares sat up, Aphrodite gulped, and Athena turned away, walking off. The entire group began to whisper about what they had just witnessed, the story spreading to all the gods and spirits quicker than a wildfire. They slowly dispersed, leaving Ares on the floor with Aphrodite gently patting his shoulder in a sad attempt at comfort (which he shoved off as he stood and stormed away). 
Poseidon watched all this and waited until he had walked back to his throne to let himself smile. He leaned back and replayed the fight in his mind, chuckling at the way you had stomped on the back of Ares’ knee with your delicate shoes. Oh he was absolutely enthralled by this goddess, and he didn’t even know your name yet…
Taglist: @josxkl1m
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spiralingemptyness · 28 days
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So the gods and goddesses can control their size
so gods like Zeus, Hera and Poseidon probably take on this large, gigantic form
while people like Apollo, Ares, Dionysus take on a tiny bit above avg of human height
I swear…. Artemis and Hermes, take up a tinier form than humanly and godly necessary. Like people and gods, nymphs etc. will stare at them and then see the most chaotic (Hermes) or badass (Artemis) midget ever…..
ex.
entity: aw look at how small they are- and now all my money has somehow disappeared wtf-
or
different entity: wow that small girl is getting hanged up by dudes , I should help heeeeer- holy fuck nvm she’s good she just- I should help the assholes, by the gods
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